Just Mine
by Tigerdust
Summary: EDIT: No matter who you are, you always pay a price for destroying something beautiful.


"What happened back there?" Tyler looks me straight in the eyes. His look is fierce and somewhat disappointed. "You know the rules. Just tell me what happened."

"Since when have you cared about rules, Tyler?" I glance back, a fierce resolve to match his own. My once preppy haircut sharply falling in pace as I move to see Tyler more clearly. He moves with my reflection; apparently not willing to have this conversation face to face.

"No one's accusing you of anything, but you have to know there are consequences."

"What? Are you gonna punch me down into the ground in vengeance for him?" I intoned a lot into that last word; nearly spitting it out with a small back molar into the filling sink. I look back to see Tyler hovering closer, noticing through the cracked glass that his tank top has been shed.

"No; I'm gonna make you relive every blessed moment of it," he hisses in my ear and grabs me around the waist. I don't like where this is going, but I'm not a fool. Tyler is dangerous; it's just better not to get in his way. I take a deep breath.

"Fine; I flipped out a bit." I look down at my own heaving 4-pack and I can still see little specks of blood from his face on it. I can still feel the unison pumping as I jackhammer his slim face with my white-knuckled fist. The heat rising off the concrete as they egg me on. The anger fiercely pounding in my eyes. Remembering Tyler giving him a kiss on the forehead. And I stop and recognize jealousy bearing in on me; its claws scratching through my pectorals. Or is that Tyler?

"You admit it then." He grabs me around my waist and spins me toward him. "You couldn't help but be jealous. I'm not just your treasure. I'm meant to be shared." He lets me go and begins to waltz around the bathroom. "You see, I found out long ago man has limits, and I intent to exploit every one of them. No one cages me. And you, you just can't bear that, can you?"

"It's not love Tyler." But I am the one who met you first. Maybe it was just, I don't know, letting someone be more special than me.

"You are starting to sound like a fag, m'boy."

"I'm not a fag." I turn back towards the mirror, and there is Tyler's hands ripping apart my pecs and abs again.

"That's not what I'm accusing you of at all. I'm accusing you of something completely different. Now get on a shirt; we're going out." I grab a dingy white t-shirt from my ragged collection in a mildewy old box next to my mildewy old mattress and Tyler and I set off. It's just easier to go with it. Like I said; Tyler is a dangerous person. But his words ring through my head and I only notice the glow of the sign for the Emergency care as Tyler seems to fade into the background.

What am I doing here? What am I supposed to say? I'm sorry I beat him so bad; can I see him anyway? I'm sure that would go over well. Another large sigh, and wondering what Tyler is up to. The room is stark white compared to my shirt. I forgot how much I hate those white overhead lights. The overweight African American nurse rolls her eyes my way.

"Can I help you?"

"Yes, my friends brought in my cousin earlier. I'd like to see him."

Her eyes would roll if she weren't so lethargic with apathy. "You know a name? It's after visiting hours."

"I know, but I just got off of work. You see, I..."

"Okay, okay, I don't need your life story. Look, he didn't have any insurance or ID on him; so they just shoved him in room 4. Now be quiet and I'll give you a couple of minutes, mister caring relative. Now you wanna explain to me where he was?"

"I can't."

"You can't or you won't?"

"I can't." The nurse sighs; graveyard shifts are a real bitch. "One more question, ma'am?"

Her eyes roll back up from her crossword puzzle. "What?"

"Is there a gift shop still open?"

Her eyes bead down on me. "Second floor; just don't take too long."

I buy an overpriced bouquet of get well soon flowers and I wonder as I pay the smirking Indian guy at the counter. What the Hell Am I Doing? The boy's room is dimly lit. He's not on oxygen or anything, but this bouquet doesn't quite fit next to the IV next to his bed. Two other patients are curtained off and I feel a twinge of guilt and despair. It's my fault he's a sardine in a lonely hospital ward. The kid was just looking for the same thing I was; only I took it too far. Possessiveness, jealousy, the slim kid could have been pegged for Tyler's son. I look down at his chart and see a name-Glen. It fits; it fits well. He's resting and his chest heaves up and down. He might be a snorer except for the big bandage covering his nose. I hear a cough at the door. A pretty little black-haired nurse announces her arrival.

"Sorry. I've just come in to check his bandage. He was lucky we got him here so quickly; the antibiotics did wonders." She must see it in my eyes. "I'm sorry again; I shouldn't have discussed it with you like this. Well, at least he has someone to take care of him."

A now-familiar feeling of guilt creeps down my spine into my calves. I feel like taking this kid back to our place; making him better there. Not that I know much about it; I scratch my head as I try to think of things. Chicken noodle soup and blankets? What are you, his mom or something? No, but I'm not heartless. A six-pack of I'm sorry and let's be comrades again beer? I don't think so. He doesn't look like he'd touch a drop. The nurse coughs and interrupts my dialogue.

"The head nurse at the desk wants to see you." She walks out and I notice that swivel in her ass. If only the kid was awake to see that. She signals for me to follow and I leap out a bit in surprise. The head nurse seems incredibly annoyed.

"Okay, take him home then."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean take him home; every thing's been paid for. His bandages are healed up and he can't afford whatever cosmetic surgery he'd need anyway. Whatever is going on; just don't let it happen again."

It won't. They roll the kid out on a wheelchair; still unconscious. Tyler rolls up in a red convertible and I set the kid in the back gently.

"Do you want to tell me what this is all about?" I try to yell over the roar of the engine and the heater with the top down. What is his only reply. I set the kid on a couch next to the abandoned fireplace; first floor prime real estate, but what now? I look at Tyler as he looks in on the kid.

"So, what do we do now?"

"Wake him up and let him decide."

"Decide what?"

"What your penalty will be. Treat him like a man; not like the jack-ass you were." This isn't the first time Tyler's done something like this, but, here goes nothing. I shake the kid's shoulder and his eyes pop open. Even in his drugged stupor, he recognizes me and tries to roll off the couch. He collapses back down into the pillows in pain.

"It's okay kid. It's okay. Look, I messed up. I got jealous. Please, let me make it up to you. Anything you want."

"You, you broke your own rules, man." His words tremble forth and break me down. "You think jealousy makes it okay? We've all seen the way you look at Tyler. None of us are stupid. Twice before I participated and no one ever threw me down like that. You didn't have to be such a jack-ass; I'm not going to steal him." The same words Tyler had used. Where is this going?

"Let me show you I'm sorry and that I've changed then. That I'll never let my feelings get that involved in a fight again."

"That's not the way it works. You've humiliated me and now I'm going to humiliate you."

"What do you mean?"

"See these scars on the bridge of my nose?" I gulp a little and breathe out yes. "Kiss them; try and make them all better," he sneers. I lean forward in repentance and he grabs me around the waist with his legs and my lips catch his. I can feel something poking through his diesel-soaked jeans and the struggling doesn't help any. He moves his head away and I can still smell blood and sweat, pressed against his ear. "Come here, Tyler, I know you want this." Tyler laughs and enters the room wearing nothing. I being flailing again, but to no avail. "No, no, It's time for your punishment, fag."

"I'm not a fag," I roar back.

"No, you're not a fag." That's such a harsh word. "You, my friend," and this is where Tyler leaned over into my ear, "are just a bottom". I felt a break in my pants and I feel the boy under me slide his jeans down. His hard-on beats against my zipper and I can feel it coming. Tyler crouches over the two of us and I find myself in the middle. The conduit of a blond uprising. I moan and neigh a bit as Tyler begins pounding over the top of me.

"Just don't tell Marla," I whisper. Tyler laughs and then I feel him inside me, pumping his shaft again and again while the boy's pre-cum begins leaking over my zipper, his uncut member catching my zipper and he reaches down. I'm thin and hard against his extra flap of skin and I gasp as we touch. Maybe this is what I wanted; to be caught in the middle. The boy and I cum together first and I hear Tyler give a roar as his hand reaches for our spasming cocks and he victoriously cums in my popped ass.

"You see? You're not a fag", he whispers again. "You're just mine."


End file.
